


You leave, you take a piece of myself with you

by whiteleander



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fix-It of Sorts, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, a touch of fluff if you squint hard, and digging their heads into the sand, instead of just admitting their feelings, it's mutual of course, just dense boys afraid to confess, s4 spoilers, with extra klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteleander/pseuds/whiteleander
Summary: Shiro’s just earned the Black lion’s trust again, and now Keith wants to stay with the Blade. Goodbyes are said, Keith is ready to go, but Lance needs one last glimpse of him before he leaves. Farewell is hardly ever easy.





	You leave, you take a piece of myself with you

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this right after finishing s4. I wished these two had more scenes, so I started writing this... Took me too long to post.
> 
> This is very self-indulgent, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> A special thanks to Tommo for bearing with me through this.

* * *

If Lance has ever been bored on Earth, life is surely eventful in space. Shiro’s just earned the Black lion’s trust again, and now Keith wants to leave and stay with the Blade. So much has happened in such a short time period, Lance needs time to process it all, needs a moment to catch his breath— his mind is crowded, his ears are ringing. He supposes the latter is also because of the parades they’ve been doing lately.

 

Keith wasn’t there, again, so it was only the four of them. They did okay, especially since Shiro got most of the attention, the crowd just adored him everywhere they went… (Albeit ‘adore’ is kind of an understatement, ‘going wild’ seems more fitting.) Probably no one would’ve noticed that there were only four lions if Coran hadn’t slipped during his speech.

 

Fortunately, their audience seemed well-entertained enough, they loved the show anyway. The only complaint Lance was unlucky to hear was about not seeing Voltron itself. Originally they would’ve formed the giant kitty-robot at the end, if only Keith had been present...

 

Lance sighs, raising his hand to rub on his chest as if trying to ease the persistent ache there. It’s so silly for him to miss Keith when the Mullethead surely feels better with his cool ninja pals. Keith was a good Red Paladin, unhappy and reluctant to lead when he was called upon to pilot Black; and he never really liked the pompous parading they were forced to do.

 

Maybe it’s a bad thing how Lance loves doing the show-off significantly more than the others. But people cheering, seeming excited and most of all happy and hopeful for the first time in ten thousand years is just great, always making him feel so contented that he can really do something, that he can make a change. It all makes being a Paladin a lot more amazing.

 

With every fibre of his being, Lance is an entertainer, he thrives to put on a great show and have the crowd clapping in joy. It energises him, and, he can be honest, he just loves being in the centre of attention and to be loved, and to give love. He lives to make others laugh, to make them have a good time, and he loves that satisfied thrill he gets upon seeing an appeased audience.

 

Probably the best part are the children, tiny little aliens looking at the lions and their paladins in awe. The joyous, adoring expressions on their faces are worth every wave of anxiety Lance feels before going out with Blue. Once he stepped— err, you mean _flew_ out, his stage fright eases, he’s smiling, lost in the moment, living to entertain. It’s simply amazing; every drop of sweat, every bit of worry, the sore in his joints are all worth it.

  


Exhaustion makes his bones all heavy, yet Lance can’t sleep. He’s roaming the Castleship as usual, not getting surprised at all when his legs take him to Keith’s room. They’ve all said their goodbyes and Keith insisted on leaving straight and simple, unnoticed since he claimed to be bad with goodbyes.

 

Making it sharp and quick is just the Keith way, Lance muses.

 

And about goodbyes: Lance doesn’t really like them either, and there’s a part of him that doesn’t exactly want to see Keith leave. Yet, he feels, if anything, simply too dissatisfied with the last words he told Keith. Maybe it’s just for soothing his guilt only, a selfish motive to come and seek Keith now, minutes before he’s supposed to sneak away. Maybe it’s more than that.

 

It’s a mixture of many things, complicated, but does it really matter? Lance only knows he can’t stay away. He knocks.

 

“Come in!” Keith’s voice sounds up from the other side of the door. Lance thinks, if anything, Keith must’ve expected Shiro only, so the confusion is apparent on his face: stunned, mouth slightly open as he’s taking in Lance’s figure in front of him.

 

Lance’s throat gets dry at the attention, he’s surprised his voice doesn’t falter when he — not at all smoothly — says: “Hey, man!”

 

“Lance? What are you doing here?”

 

 _Quiznack._ He should’ve thought this through. Without any good reason (Of course he cannot just say _‘Hey man, I wanted to see you one more time’_ , no that would be too dramatic.) Lance starts fidgeting, fishing for a wholesome explanation. He shouldn’t be so stunned that his brain seems to short-circuit around Keith. It’s not the first time.

 

“I just wanted to… ask for the red lion slippers. I’ve never seen you wear them so I suppose you’re not taking them?”

 

God, why is everything that comes out of his mouth such a big, ridiculous bullshit? He wanted to come to Keith to make things right, now he’s just messing up even worse!

 

Lance expects Keith to say something snappy— _Do you even need two pairs?—_ , bite back as usual, but he only sighs, turning around silently to fetch the thing.

 

Inexplicably, Lance does feel disappointed somehow. He wants to say so many things but he doesn’t know how, neither does he know if Keith would be even interested. Probably not, and that’s exactly why Lance doesn’t even try to put his feelings in words. He isn’t really ready.

 

Keith comes back, offering Lance the slippers with a deadpanned expression. It doesn’t seem like he will say anything either.

 

Lance thinks it’s over, this is it — their last shared moment for now. Keith will leave, and Lance will stay, funnily, in his place _again_ , and there won’t be anything else now, just this _fucked up_ memory when he, like a true a-hole, asks for Keith’s slippers he doesn’t even need.

 

He should say at least a ‘thank you’, and a ‘take care’, then retreat to make it fast and simple. Except Lance’s mouth can’t seem to work. Strangely, Keith’s does.

 

“Take care of Red,” he says with a small smile, eyes shimmering. There’s a kind of sadness in him. Lance swallows.

 

“I will,” Lance manages to reply, taking the slippers from Keith eventually. Heat surges in him where their fingers touch— it doesn’t last longer than a blink of an eye, and Keith pulls his hands away, taking a step back, looking at the ground intensely.

 

Lance is vibrating with want to say something, but words really don’t want to come. The slippers are soft in his hands, lightweight, yet they seem to have a certain gravity— of all possible excuses, why did he ask for them? They’ll only remind him of Keith’s absence more…

 

But he cannot take back the words, nor can he undo the actions — he has to bear with the consequences now. Not the first time, and probably not the last.

  


Lance feels he really should get going; he’s urging himself to say the final words and turn around and leave Keith be…

 

Except Keith really seems to be in a chatty mood now.

 

“Do you think…” His voice sounds nothing like Lance has ever heard before, low and saturated with emotion. Keith is hesitant, unsure, like he’s struggling with words, not knowing if he should say, and how to say them in the first place. Lance waits, patient but nothing less stunned, for him to finish.

 

“...that I should go?” Lance must be gawking like a guppy, because Keith, noticing Lance’s reaction, goes on, still hesitant but words come smoother somehow. “I was just wondering if it isn’t _selfish_.”

 

He shrugs, looking anywhere but at Lance. A part of Lance knows this is a critical moment between them yet he’s not fussing over it— he just acts, fast and simple, and not really thinking about what he’s doing.

 

He steps forward, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

 

“If that’s what you think is best for you, I think you should,” he begins, reassuring. "If you strongly feel like you just need to do something, then you should, you don't need to try and explain it if you can't, it's there for a reason. You'll be fine." He smiles, encouraging.

 

Keith is stunned, so taken aback he’s eyeing Lance as if he’s the greatest wonder of the universe.

 

“You were the one to find Blue anyway!” Lance adds to prove his point, gently nudging Keith with his shoulder now that he’s standing next to him.

 

“Thanks,” Keith says after all, catching Lance off-guard with how soft his voice sounds. “For everything, actually. Being the leader was something I never wanted, but you helped me. You grounded me.”

 

“Well, of course,” Lance chimes after the first shock, trying to turn his embarrassment into shitty gloating. It’s stupid. “You’re always in a dire need of someone to keep your hot head cool.”

 

So, so stupid. It really is lame, but it still makes Keith _chuckle_. Lance loves the warm feeling he gets every time he manages to make Keith laugh.

 

“Well, you’re pretty good at that.” Keith’s kind reply doesn’t really make it easier for Lance, air gets caught up in his throat.

 

Maybe he’s stupid seeing too much into the slight flush on Keith’s face, his pretty eyes glistening. Maybe Keith actually means every word, thinking this is their final encounte—

 

 _No_ , Lance forces his mind to stop at that, banishing the thought before it could even materialise fully. _That won’t happen, ever._

 

Lance knows he’s wrong. They’re fighting a war, _it_ can happen to any of them at any time. This is serious, no matter how much he’s trying to lighten up the situation — he cannot do that forever, burying his head in the sand for comfort.

 

But this moment with Keith now is too rare, too precious for him to let his anxieties come forth. They will come later, he knows. Sometimes he can conquer them easy, sometimes they’re crashing down on him. Now Lance tries to push them away; he wants to make Keith’s stay last just a while longer.

 

“We’ve had some cool moments, didn’t we?” So he adds, trying to seem leisure he hides his hands in his pockets — he doesn’t want Keith to catch how much they’re trembling.

 

“Yeah,” Keith smirks. He should do that more often, even if it makes Lance’s heart drop. “Honestly? I’m still surprised Red chose _you_.” Now the pestering, he could really forget about in such nice times.

 

“Way to ruin this bonding moment, Keith.”

 

Hearing Lance’s sulky reply, Keith’s expression changes from scoffing to regretful, even ashamed.

 

“You know I’m just making fun of you,” he says, apologetic. “You’re really good with her.” He adds then, repentant, but a small smile sits in the corner of his mouth.

 

At the sincere and very much unexpected praise, Lance feels hot, thick blood running in his veins, painting his cheeks red like — now — his lion. They burn.

 

“Well,” he has to clear his throat. “Red is surprisingly easy to handle. I thought it would be an absolute disaster, but—“ He shrugs, running out of things to say. Keith comes to his help.

 

“I get what you mean,” he keeps the conversation going. “Back on the Galra ship, I thought I was never gonna earn her trust.” Keith stops, thinking back to everything that’s happened since then. He smiles. “She’s a good kitty.”

 

“She’s beautiful,” Lance agrees, so happy to be on common ground at last. He wishes they’ve had more of this casual chit-chat. “The lava beam is just awesome, I always wanted that! And the speed!!”

 

“Yes, the speed. That’s pretty amazing.”

 

They look at each other, cheeks pink, eyes glistening. Silence falls between them. It’s not the awkward kind, rather nice, yet something dark lingers around in the air neither of them wants to acknowledge.

 

Keith knows he should go, he and Lance both know, but Lance doesn’t want him to, he wants Keith to stay. Keith seems jittery, like he also wants to stay but he’s thrilled to leave as well, stuck between the two contradictory wishes and indecisive of what to do. Lance guesses he would probably be the same, and he doesn’t want to keep Keith away from his fate.

 

_Just a few more doboshes…_

 

“You know, Keith, the Castle isn’t gonna be the same without you pouting all over it…” Lance meddles with the words, heaviness weighing on him with each sound that leaves his mouth. It’s still not right like this.

 

Keith doesn’t reply. The silence is getting unbearable now, like it's his conscience is nudging at Lance. He doesn’t want Keith to leave like this, even if he knows that Keith knows that he’s only teasing him. That’s just the way they are.

 

“All I’m saying is,” _Come on. “_ That…, uhhh,” _Just get the words out, man!_ “I’m gonna miss you.”

 

It’s out now, and it isn’t even that bad— Lance only wants to run away, head first to the closest wall, to be precise. He still peeks at Keith, though, unable to resist checking his reactions.

 

Keith is staring at him, eyes big and wide before the apparent shock eases from his features, bright red creeping up his neck instead. He looks cute.

 

“I’m gonna miss you too,” he says eventually, voice barely audible but his words hit Lance like a thunderous drum beat. Then, as if realising a mistake, Keith becomes flustered, adding: “All of you.”

 

Lance doesn’t want to acknowledge the disappointment that’s panging inside him — this moment is just too nice for that. So he smiles, heart hammering wildly.

 

“Take care, Mullet.”

 

Keith smiles back.

 

“You too.”

  


* ** *

 

With his conscience partly soothed and a sweeter memory in his heart, Lance still cannot fall asleep. He’s sitting in one of his favourite spots in the Castle, a quiet corner next to a large window, and stares at the stars, sheets wrapped around him, red slippers keeping his feet warm.

 

Something rockets through the vastness of space, small and fast, reminding Lance of a shooting star first, but he’s quick to realise that it’s one of the Castle pods. Lance is looking in its direction long minutes after it disappeared, lips forming a bittersweet smile. He pulls the sheets tighter around him.

 

Without Keith right here, the universe feels immeasurably _colder_.

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite satisfied with how this turned out, but I couldn't sit on it any longer. Oh boy, was s4 a wild ride??? I'm still shook.
> 
> Anyway, this was supposed to be a short and quick one shot, but it took me longer to finish than usual. I suppose there must be a lot of fics of this kind since s4 dropped, still I wanted to share mine. (I'm always late to the party ._. )
> 
> Also this is probably the cheesiest title I've ever come up with... and I legit hate writing summaries, I usually just paste a part from the fic but I couldn't choose a paragraph that would fit, and I think I created the most dramatic and ridiculous summary in existence XD
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feedback is greatly appreciated. Happy klancing! :)


End file.
